


Jane Cleans Up After Herself

by Classpectanon



Series: Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck [45]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Classpectanon/pseuds/Classpectanon
Summary: Baking was hard work, and it never got much easier. If anything, as Jane got older, and transitioned from, for the most part, boxed cake mixes and then to trying to bake her own cakes and then back again, it just got harder. And branching out from confectioneries into things like bread? Forget about it - challah, rye, sourdough, this shit was hard! It required getting up at early hours if you wanted to eat it at any reasonable hour, even during summer vacation. Like, yeah, you could eat at night, but that wasn't great for your waistline, and Jane was trying to watch her figure!... Kind of! Not really.45/365
Relationships: Jane Crocker & GCat
Series: Three Hundred And Sixty Five Ficlets About Homestuck [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085684
Kudos: 7





	Jane Cleans Up After Herself

Baking was hard work, and it never got much easier. If anything, as Jane got older, and transitioned from, for the most part, boxed cake mixes and then to trying to bake her own cakes and then back again, it just got harder. And branching out from confectioneries into things like bread? Forget about it - challah, rye, sourdough, this shit was hard! It required getting up at early hours if you wanted to eat it at any reasonable hour, even during summer vacation. Like, yeah, you could eat at night, but that wasn't great for your waistline, and Jane was trying to watch her figure!... Kind of! Not really. No, she wasn't.

Oh, how little she was prepared for an actual bakery, she mused to herself sometimes. The cruel, long hours, the heat. Perhaps it would be easier to just go into business.

But right now, the air was filled with the scent of bread and baking, and all was okay. The small white cat, currently nameless, still technically a stray, gently walked her way through some of the leftover flour on the countertop, while Jane busied herself cleaning. Her apron was covered in flour. The kitchen table was covered in flour. Her rolling pin? Covered in flour. Her hands? Guess what, bitch, covered in flour, and little bits of dough too. Her hair? You guessed it, covered - well, no, just sort of dappled with flour, like her face, in little whitish speckles.

Hot water and soap only did so much by their lonesome - Jane had to apply hot water, soap, and time, letting her hands run under the nearly-scalding water as it power-washed bits of dough from her fingertips and underneath her nails. The cat leaped back and forth from the table to the counter, leaving little white trails behind it as it walked, climbing onto Jane's shoulders, scrabbling up her head so she could sit on Jane's hair. Jane laughed at the sudden additional weight, not saying anything to it, because it was a cat and did not understand human speech.

This was a place, of course, where the cat's original function was rendered obsolete. There was a perfectly good dog doing the job, after all, and a man on the moon as backup. The cat had eyes, and white fur, and a pinkish tongue, befitting normal cats, a pinkish tongue roughly lapping at Jane's face in a way custom-made to cause her as much mildly amusing inconvenience as possible. The cat's flour-coated paws helpfully deposited more of a mess into Jane's curls of hair, causing her to grunt in bemusement.

With her hands as free of flour and dough as she could get them, she unspooled a fresh couple squares of paper towels to dry off, and then another couple, and another, just to make sure she had as much wet flour off her as possible. Then, she reached up, slowly, surely, to grab at the cat on her head and slowly put it down somewhere where it could make less of a mess and a ruckus.

When her hands brushed against its fur, it immediately jumped off of Jane's head, claws digging just a bit into her scalp, and out the window. Jane sighed, and started wiping down her apron, just to get the worst of that mess on the floor where she could mop it up later, so the washing machine wouldn't get clogged with flour.

Clogging the washing machine with flour just once was bad enough. No need to do it a second time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. All views, kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated.  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/classpectanon)


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